Rose of Glass
by Fififjonka
Summary: Set right after Belle gets into Rumpelstiltskin's castle. Sure they were meant to fall in love, but even in fairy-tales, that process takes some time. And in this case, quite some time...
1. First Night

**Chapter one: First night**

When she agreed on going into his castle forever, she was at least sure he wouldn't lock her up in the dungeons. Why would he want exclusively her, if he were about to lock her in the dungeons?

_So... Why did he lock me in the dungeons?_

Belle had been walking along the cell walls for the last two hours. She sat down on her cot then, staring through the window. She'd been there two days and it appeared this was the furthest she would get. So making the life-changing decision meant spending the rest of her life in this cell.

It had no sense...

Suddenly the door opened. Belle jumped up with fright, but she saw nobody standing there. She peeked outside, making a step further. On her way here she'd noticed how huge the castle was, but she didn't particularly liked the dark-filled corridors and gloomy, dusty halls.

Belle proceeded through the shadowy corridor, looking around. Spider webs covering the stony walls, layers of dust everywhere... But the silence was the worst.

_How could anyone live here?_

But Rumpelstiltskin wasn't just anyone...

She could hear cold and chilling laughter, running toward her. And then, out of nowhere, he appeared right in front of her. He was so close she could almost feel his cool breath on her face. She backed off immediately, falling on the ground with fear touching her heart. He raised an eyebrow, laughing.

"Oh, so... clumsy... A clumsy housekeeper is not what I need..."

She got on her feet, wiping off dust from her skirt, trying to push the fright down.

"I'm not clumsy," she said. "You just scared me."

"Did I?" he asked, his voice mocking. It was evidently exactly what he wanted to do.

"How do you like your room? I hope you find it comfortable."

Belle gave him a look, recognizing the malicious spark in his black inhuman eyes. She gathered all her courage. If that were what he wanted to hear... He wasn't going to get it.

"I love it," she said, smiling. "It's beautiful."

His grin froze, but he shook his head, restoring his supremacy.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said shortly, coldly. "Follow me."

She obeyed, speeding up as he was walking quickly toward the stairs. She tried to memorize all the things he was naming, but she'd managed hardly a half of it.

"Now..." he said, when they stopped outside, in his garden completely overgrown with vegetation. There were fruit trees with ivy hanging from the branches, large bushes of wild roses, bramble bushes so high they reached the branches of the trees, sharp and tough sedge and nettles. And that jungle was interlaced with mallow, cornflower and poppy. And underneath all that she could see ruins of fountains and stone walls.

"Start with the garden," Rumpelstiltskin said. A pair of scissors appeared in his hand and he handed it to her. She took it, looking around the garden again. Not even a year would be enough time to make this garden look normal or nice.

"But..."

"Yes, dearie? Something wrong?" he asked, curious. She shook her head.

"No, it's fine."

He nodded.

"Good luck," he said, walking away. Belle breathed deeply to push away the panic. He sure wasn't joking. And he sure was able to keep her in this garden until she finished the work. Work for at least ten gardeners.

But standing there and staring wasn't going to take away the weed, she thought and decided to move along the side, set by high stone walls. As she didn't even have a pair of gloves, her hands were soon covered in sores and blisters. But she ignored the pain, focusing only on the vegetation. Although she was tired and hadn't eaten for three days, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting her on her knees. Is she were meant to die in this garden, then be it.

Belle didn't know how long she'd been working there, it could have been ten hours and it could have been a week. When she looked behind, she saw the castle but he wasn't in any of the windows.

_I'm not going to give up... I'm not going to give up... Hold on, Belle, hold on..._

Mountains of weed were forming behind her as she had been proceeding further and further to the garden. Sweat covered her whole face, her back hurt, her clothes were torn.

_I'm not going to... give up..._

She fell on her knees, breathing deeply. She looked down at her bloody hands and her head started spinning. And right at the moment, she felt the air moving and Rumpelstiltskin appeared next to her. Fear grasped her heart again as he was glaring down at her.

"Wow, wow... Where's my dinner?"

Belle got up, walking slowly back to the castle. She remembered where the kitchen was, but when she saw the state most of the food was in, she would rather cook him a pair of slugs. Well, considering the fact he also looked like one, it would be like eating his own kind.

She served him dinner in the dinning room, sitting on the opposite side of the long table. Her hands were pulsing with pain but she wouldn't say a word about it. Rumpelstiltskin was eating in complete silence and each second of it made Belle more nervous. She was actually relieved when the dinner was over. Rumpelstiltskin was still sitting on the chair, obviously deep in thoughts. Belle dared to looked up at him and he noticed it, shooting her a glare.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," she blurted, looking away. The dizziness she felt previously came back and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. That move seemed to catch his attention.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. Belle hesitated, unsure if it were agreement or disagreement he required.

"I... don't know..." she said. A smirk cracked on his face and he raised his eyebrows.

"You don't know if you're hurt?"

He laughed briefly.

"Well... I think you should go back to your room and have some rest. You'll have a busy day tomorrow."

"Thanks..." Belle said, happy to get out of his sight. She somehow found her way to the dungeons. She opened the door and widened her eyes with surprise. It wasn't the cell behind the door anymore. It was a nice, comfortable room with a big bed, two armchairs and soft carpet on the floor. Another door in front of the bed led to a shiny looking bathroom and next to her bed on a small table, she saw a bowl full of fruits and a glass basin with silvery water.

"What..." she uttered in disbelief. Could she be dreaming?

She sat down on the bed, making sure it was real. She leaned herself above the basin, horrified with how she looked, her face covered in scratches and bruises, old leaves and tree sticks. She sank her hands into the water, washing the dirt away from them and her face. Suddenly she felt a strange tickling sensation in her hands and face. She looked at her reflection again, widening her eyes as all the bruises and scratches from her skin disappeared, along with the pain.

"So... I surely am dreaming," she said to herself with conviction, laying on the bed and falling asleep at the same moment. She fell asleep too quickly to hear the steps behind her door.


	2. Blackberry Pie

**Chapter two: Blackberry Pie**

The other day, right after serving breakfast, Rumpelstiltskin left the castle and Belle returned to the garden. She thought she'd done more work but there was only a tiny narrow tunnel in the vegetation, lined with mountains of wilted weed.

When Belle entered the garden, she raised an eyebrow. On a marble old pedestal, a pair of neat looking gloves was laying. She took it, studying the strange fabric they were made of. She wore one on her left hand, trying to take out a single dry nettle. As soon as she touched it, the nettle became green again.

"What?"

She wore the other one, touching the nettle again. It died immediately. Belle shook her head. What could it possibly be good for? Why would he leave it for her?

"Wait a minute..."

Belle smirked, going where she stopped yesterday. She started working, letting all the unnecessary weed die, wiping it away with a rake. It went much faster and easier, because she didn't have to kneel down every time she needed to take out a single weed. She was so happy she started singing.

On her way she found a huge bush with blackberries and picked all the big fruits into a basket. It reminded her of a delicious blackberry pie her mother used to make. As she went on to an old apple tree, she removed a big branch of it. And she stopped, surprised with the view it revealed. What was that...?

"A fountain?"

It seemed ancient, completely forgotten and surrounded with impervious brier. There were six gargoyles, covered in moss. But in the middle, a single rose was growing and it was glass. Beautiful and like a real rose, but glass. Every petal, every thorn. The stem was dark green, such as the leaves, and the rosebud hadn't opened yet. The colour of it was deep black.

Belle narrowed her eyes, approaching and looking right into the bud. There was a small red spark somewhere deep in the glass.

"Housemaid!"

She jumped up, her heart racing. She ran back on the path, almost spilling the blackberries. She found Rumpelstiltskin near the apple tree she trimmed, watching it with curiosity.

"You've done some work," he remarked, not looking at her. "But still I thought you would be finished with the garden by now."

"What?" Belle laughed, but his short glare killed the laughter in her throat and she started coughing. Rumpelstiltskin smirked but waved his hand and her throat cleared. She gulped, looking at him more closely. But before she could lay her eyes upon him, he moved swiftly, going back to the castle. She followed, prepared to make the blackberry pie. Right in the middle of the process, Rumpelstiltskin appeared in the kitchen door.

"What are you doing?" he spat out. She gasped and took a deep breath before answering. She really didn't like his habit of jumping up from nowhere.

"A blackberry pie..."

"A pie?" he repeated, obviously displeased. "Didn't I specifically order sirloin?"

"Yes, but -"

"You don't do what I don't tell you. You do exactly and only what I tell you."

He was still standing in the door, his shadowy figure menacing, his face hidden in dark. Only the cold sparks of his black eyes were visible.

"Do you understand, dearie?" he asked and his voice was hissing and cold. She stiffened. Once again he was frightening her. That inhuman features, stressing out his virulence and wickedness. And she vowed to stay with _him_, here, till the end of her days?

"Yes..." she murmured. "I just thought... I found some blackberries..."

That evidently wasn't the greatest argument and she fell silent, observing with the corner of her eye as he walked away. Belle tried hard to push away the frustration while cooking the sirloin. And then she frowned. No way! She worked so hard in the garden, she deserved a prize and the prize was her blackberry pie! Not mentioning she needed to try to push the boundaries a little, otherwise she'd be stuck at one place. A place impossible to move from.

She brought it all into the dinning room but hid the pie on a chair under the table. They dined in silence, like the previous evening. Rumpelstiltskin didn't even lift his eyes and Belle opened and closed her mouth several times, decided to say something and changing her mind afterwards.

"Thank you for the gloves, by the way," she remarked and he looked up.

"What? Oh... yes... I thought you could use them. Although you can't tell if you're hurt or not."

He smirked. Belle gave in a small smile.

"They really make the work easier... And as I said, I discovered a blackberry bush and..."

His eyes were fixed upon her face, the corners of his mouth twisting.

"So... you've made the pie anyway..." he stated. She smiled nervously and nodded, getting up and taking the pie from the chair.

"I thought it would be a waste of such great blackberries."

She approached him carefully, putting the pie in front of him and slicing it with a knife.

"My mother used to make it for me..."

She felt his stare upon herself and it made her nervous. They got so close, closer than any time before. Their arms were almost touching. She was cautious, slowly serving a piece of the pie on a dessert plate. He moved his arm then, briefly touching her forearm.

Belle yelped and jerked, feeling sharp pain in her finger as the knife cut her skin.

"You cut yourself," he said, looking at the blood.

"It's nothing..."

She wanted to hide the arm but he grabbed it tightly. His skin was so cold like no blood was circulating in his veins.

"Let me..."

"No, it's really -"

She stopped.

"You're hurting me..."

"Oh," he released her immediately, almost too quickly. He looked aside, hiding his face behind his hair. Belle gave him a short glare before looking away. Air was stuck in her lungs and her chest was tied.

"But if you can," she said and their eyes met for a second. Belle blinked. She saw something in the black orbs, something that wasn't completely hollow.

"As you wish..." he said silently, taking her arm rather gently and holding his palm above the cut. Belle felt warmness spreading from his hand, the pain vanishing and soon her skin was healed.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. He nodded and let go of her, withdrawing from her a little bit. Belle ignored it and finished serving of the pie.

"Please, taste it," she said, sitting on a nearby chair.

"I know you prefer meat but I love this pie."

He had a few bites, tilting his head on side and frowning. Belle thought he didn't like it, but then she realized he was just playing it all. That proved to be true when his eyes flashed lightly and his lips curled into a smirk again.

"Very well..." he said. He paused, hesitating and obviously wanting to say something, but he shook his head, though, and gestured his hand.

"You may go."

Belle deliberated whether to tell him about the rose she found, but for some reason she didn't want to. Definitely not now.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked and she glared at him.

"No... I just wanted to ask if we are the only people living in the castle."

"_People_, dearie?" he repeated, amused, giggling in his typical way. "There's only one human living in this castle and it's certainly not me."

Belle didn't know what to say on that.

"It's just that I had a feeling someone was behind my door yesterday. But maybe I only dreamed it..."

There was an odd look in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

"A dream, most probably," he said. "Now go, housemaid. It's late."

Belle got up, taking the dishes and putting it all on a tray.

"You know my name, right?" she asked in the door.

"What?"

"My name. It's Belle. Call me Belle, please."

"Belle..." he repeated. "It's too nice for a mere housemaid."

"Well," she said, "I'm not a mere housemaid."

A second before the door of the dining room closed behind her, she could see a hint of an amused smile on his darkened face.


End file.
